It's A Wonderful Steele
by gilmoradict
Summary: This story follows ‘Steele on the High Road,’ and was first posted by this author in 2008. During the series Steele and Laura spent as much time sparring as sparking and it's that quality that I sought to reproduce. Besides, it's a good day for a sail.
1. Chapter 1

**It's a Wonderful Steele**

Gilmoradict January 2008

_This story follows 'Steele on the High Road,' first posted by this author in 2007, though the stories are only vaguely related. During the series Steele and Laura spent as much time sparring as sparking, and it is that quality that I sought to reproduce in this story._

Cloudless blue sky met sparkling sun kissed waves, as a trim 34 foot sail boat skimmed sweetly over the water. A grinning dark haired man pulled in a line, as a trim, freckle face brunette called out instructions. Two men sat basking in the sun on the bow of the boat, feet dangling, occasionally soaked as waves splashed over the rails, and an older blond woman clutched the cabin frame, bracing herself with her short legs as best she could against the movement of the boat. The employees of _Remington Steele Investigations_, and brother to one of them, were enjoying a Sunday sail courtesy of the Reef Yacht Club, for whom the agency had recently provided a service. Remington Steele, to the vexation of his associate Laura Holt, had declined payment in exchange for a weekend on one of the club's yachts, but Laura had eschewed the weekend excursion in favor of an afternoon sail on a small vessel she felt comfortable managing. She had sailed with friends several times; Steele's boating prowess was a little vague, though in truth he was proving a most able seaman. Fred and his brother seemed content to relax and let Miss Holt and Mr. Steele manage the craft, and Mildred, though a bit intimidated at moments by the snapping power of the wind in the small boat's sails, was doing her best to enjoy the exhilaration of the whole experience. The afternoon passed far too quickly; soon Laura and Steele had furled the sails. The group sat back to enjoy the sunset from just outside the bay that sheltered the marina. A few airy clouds now dotted the horizon, fluffy and as pale a pink as cotton candy. The blush of color as the sun melted into the calm water cast an enchanting glow across Laura's cheeks. Steele leaned in, unable to resist the impulse to taste that color with his lips. Intent on the sunset, Laura merely smiled slightly at Steele's advance. When he reached with his slender fingers to turn her face toward his Laura pulled away, suddenly aware of _Remington Steele's_ attentive secretary Mildred watching her co-workers with a knowing smile.

"Beautiful sight, isn't it Mr. Steele?" Mildred remarked innocently. She would have had to be blind not to see the electricity that often flew between Miss Holt and Mr. Steele, but it was rare for Mildred to actually witness any affectionate interaction between the pair.

"Indeed, Miss Krebs, indeed."

Her blush deepened by discomfiture, Laura began puttering about the cockpit of the boat, gathering up towels, drink cans, and sun screen. "We'd better start the engines and get back into our slip. There aren't any running lights on this boat and we need to be off the water by sundown. Technically we're already violating maritime laws."

Steele laughed declaring under his breath, "What we're violating are the laws of nature, Miss Holt. No man should be spurned as often as…" Then clearing his throat, "Fred, care to fire up the motor and take us back?"

Fred shook his head. "I'm good with engines, Mr. Steele, but not with marine navigation. This trip is all yours and Miss Holt's." The agency chauffeur had recently reconstructed the agency's limousine, following some unfortunate vandalism. While pleased to be included in this outing, along with his brother, who had also been involved in _Remington Steele's_ most recent case, Fred was not entirely comfortable out of the front seat. He was however, accustomed to Mr. Steele's pursuit of Miss Holt, and watched the ongoing battle with amusement from his unique vantage point.

Steele took the wheel while Laura tidied the boat, and maneuvered through the moored boats in the bay with ease. Laura sprang lightly to the bow of the sailboat, throwing out fenders and readying a line to secure the boat when they arrived in the slip. As the boat motored smartly in, several attractive bikini-clad women spotted Steele, admiring his profile and jaunty bearing, and returning his smile with megawatt smiles of their own. Steele was momentarily distracted by their attention. Waving affably, he failed to keep his eye trained on the pylons. Ramming the near post rather abruptly, Steele launched the poised Laura into the murky waters of the marina. Spluttering, and spitting out sea weed, Laura surfaced along side a startled Steele.

"Miss Holt, wouldn't a swim have been more pleasant while we were in open waters?" Steele offered blithely. Then as if suddenly realizing an accident had just occurred he solicitously inquired, "Are you alright?"

Glancing up at the laughing women who waved over their shoulders as they continued down the dock, Laura offered no response. She accepted Steele's proffered hand and he lifted her easily from the water with one hand, while at the same moment he declared,

"Carrying a bit of water weight, aren't we Miss Holt?" Having been rebuffed by his ever business -like partner one too many times, Steele's couldn't seem to resist plying his wit at her expense. Leaning in toward Laura he continued "You currently smell a bit like a crab salad. I believe there's a shower up at the club house. Loving water the way you do, you may wish to avail yourself of that option before we dine tonight."

"Oh Miss Holt, here, wrap up in this towel." Mildred bustled about Laura, while casting warning glances at Mr. Steele. "Chief, I'd cool it if I were you."

"Thank you Mildred." Laura grabbed her bag, and with a look of pure venom for Steele, stepped out of the boat, failing to take into account that the craft had not yet been secured to the dock. The boat pushed back, leaving a startled Laura briefly suspended in mid air, before she was once again submerged in grimy water, this time drenching her towel, and the bag with her jacket and warm-ups as well. Fred and Mitch quickly reached to lift her from the brine as she surfaced, this time handing her up to the dock. Wordlessly, Laura stalked up toward the limo, leaning back against the car, dripping, until the rest of the group joined her.

"I don't suppose anyone is interested in dinner at the Reef Club? On the client?"

Steele's query was met with silence. Sighing, Steele along with the others, climbed into the limo. Laura claimed the front seat, across from Fred, starring out the window at the dark streets of Los Angeles, as her chauffeur wisely made her loft their first stop.

"I'm sorry about the upholstery Fred," Laura offered apologetically as she excited the vehicle. "Please bill the agency for the time it takes to clean the car." Shutting the door firmly, and shivering in the chilly night air, Laura turned to enter the building. Steele slipped quickly from the back seat, hoping to walk Laura to her door, to apologize and somehow smooth over the evening's damp demise.

"Don't." was all Laura spit at him as she sensed his presence behind her. He hesitated, and Laura stalked up to her loft alone.

"Chief, I think you made a serious tactical error." Mildred glared at her beloved Mr. Steele with a rare look of approbation.

"I believe you're right, Mildred. I seem to have thrown a wet blanket on an otherwise pleasant afternoon." Steele looked up at Laura's window as the light came on. He had a sinking feeling he was going to pay dearly for his earlier levity.


	2. Chapter 2

Part II

Laura stood under the hot shower for a long time, allowing the clean water along with copious quantities of herbal shampoo to wash the marina stench from her hair. She was still seething over her dunking and Steele's heartless jibes afterwards.

"Slimy, hormone-driven arrogant egotist! If he wasn't constantly sniffing after every well endowed, bleached blond bimbo who batted their eyelashes at him…" And they all did. It was constant. Everywhere they went. Women falling all over him while SHE was lost in the shadows behind him. Having to clean up the messes he made while he blundered his way through case after case, using movie references to explain real life for Pete's sake. Spending money like there was an endless supply of the stuff. Her life would be so much better if he'd never walked into the offices of Remington Steele.

Still fuming, Laura dropped a warm flannel gown over her head, toweling her hair dry before crawling into bed. "I wish he had never shown up to throw my life into chaos." Angry tears coursed down Laura's cheeks as she dropped off to sleep.

_Despite her early bedtime, Laura's alarm burst into the 'Tyler and Austin' wake up song seemingly almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. Opening her eyes and stretching, Laura listened for a moment before throwing her covers back._

"_Do you know what they call the chicken who crossed the road in front of the Uffizi" Austin asked. _

"_I don't know, what do they call the chicken that crosses the road in front of the Uffizi? Tyler responded. _

"_Road Pizza." Austin quipped lamely, as a canned sound effect blared over the air waves. _

_Laura groaned, even as she smiled. Rising resolutely from bed she strode to her antiseptically white bathroom, turning to scowl at her reflection in the mirror. She hated it when she went to sleep with wet hair, resulting in a riot of crushed curls in the morning. Her fingers ran briefly over the four long scars on her right forearm, reminders of the night Nero had disappeared. She had been walking back toward her house with Nero, only to have him leap terrified from her arms, raking her with his back claws when the house exploded into flames. She missed Nero. Many days of searching had failed to locate her furry friend, lost to her, just as her house and all its memories had been. The new condo she lived in was closer to the office, and secure, locked front doors, other people always around. That had seemed important somehow as her notoriety as a private investigator had grown. It was a little sterile, but she really didn't have much time to accumulate new memories, as busy as the agency kept her._

_In an efficient hour she had showered, repaired her hair, eaten a quick piece of toast and was in the elevator heading toward the ground level interior parking where the Rabbit was parked – and where it would stay. Laura could walk from here to the Century Towers in 20 minutes – even in heels – and if she needed to go somewhere in the course of her work day, Fred and the agency limousine were available. Laura wasn't crazy about the expense of the condo, but the security and convenience more than justified the cost._

_Swinging the doors of the agency wide, she greeted Mildred, who as usual had arrived at eight, just a few moments before Laura, but in time to be responsible for the rich smell of coffee which filled the office. "Morning, Mildred. Murphy in?" _

"_Not yet, Miss Holt. He called to say he was stopping by the coroner's office to pick up the files on the Peterson matter. You have another client at 9, Melissa Jenkins. She's trying to locate a missing sibling." Ever efficient Mildred handed Laura the file as she spoke._

"_Thanks. I'll be in my office." Laura turned right and entered the large office she had previously set aside for her fictitious boss Remington Steele. Her reputation had solidified over the past several years. Rarely did anyone insist on seeing 'Remington Steele' anymore and the illusion that he was traveling, or working in a remote location had served her well. She needed the bigger space, and due to their work load had hired another operative, Charlotte Alonzo, who occupied the central office these days. Out of consideration for Charlotte's privacy Laura rarely used the connecting door. The three separate offices- Charlotte's, Murphy's, and hers - were just that. Separate. She sighed as she stood and looked out the window, tapping the file in her hand. To a large extent they were all independent operatives. On the wall behind Laura was an abstract depiction of a grand piano. It was one of the few personal pieces she had purchased for the agency walls. It was a reminder of her grandmother and the beautiful piano that had been lost when her home burned. _

"_Hey, Partner!" Murphy knocked as he poked his head in. "Got the results of that autopsy. I think it's clear the death was not accidental. Somebody set this guy up – there was enough rat poison in his system to kill an elephant."_

_Laura shook her head. "Not a pleasant way to go. Got any suspects?"_

"_Yeah, a couple. I'll let you know if I need any help, but I think it's pretty much C and D. I'll be in my office working out the details. I'm planning a long lunch. Make sure you eat something Laura." Murphy shook his finger in Laura's direction. He knew Laura had a tendency to forget to eat when she got busy – which was pretty much all the time. Ragging her about it was routine; while it didn't serve a whole lot of purpose, he kept after her out of habit. _

"_O.K. Murph. Say 'Hi' to Karen for me." Laura grinned at Murphy's back as he flinched a little. Having finally convinced Murphy they would never be more than friends and associates, Laura was delighted that he was dating, and occasionally wondered why she __wasn't__, but then, there really wasn't time. She really needed to get out more, it was just that running the agency was pretty much an eighty hour a week commitment. She could probably turn more over to Murphy, but he was busy with Karen these days._

_As Murphy had expected, Laura worked through lunch, leaving late in the afternoon to do research related to her newest case. She made sure she took time to meet with Charlotte before leaving to go over her case load, as well as to confer with Mildred about her very vital research work with the agency. Mildred was fabulous. A little stiff, but then one would expect that of a former IRS investigator. Both Charlotte and Mildred would likely be gone before Laura returned to the office for her final perusal of the files at the end of the day. Remington Steele's clientele may not be particularly high profile, but having established a reputation by using her fictitious male superior, there now seemed to be plenty of bread and butter cases for a hard working private investigator. Hard working. Those were the words that defined Laura Holt. _

_Rubbing weary eyes, Laura got up to get a drink, and to stretch for a minute. When she realized it was already nearly eight she decided it was perhaps time to call it a day. Gathering up a few case files to read at home later, Laura took the elevator down. _

"_Night Miss Holt." The janitor waved from his work in the lobby. _

"_Night Miguel." Laura's voice cracked, and she realized this was the first time she had spoken in several hours. _

_Closing her condo door behind her, and turning the deadbolt, Laura tossed her brief case on the coffee table, and wandered into the kitchen. Too tired to cook, and too hungry to order out, Laura sniffed the milk in her fridge tentatively. Not too bad. She grabbed a box of Cheerios, a bowl and a spoon, and flicked on her five inch screen portable television to watch while she ate cereal for dinner. The bowl was rinsed and back in the cupboard in no time, and having exchanged her suit and heels for a nightgown, Laura grabbed the files she had brought home and carried them into her bedroom to peruse as she fell asleep. Too tired to read, the files soon fell to the floor near her bed. Laura lay and contemplated her ceiling in the dark. Was her life all she had hoped it would be when she created Remington Steele Investigations? Somehow it seemed as if there ought to be something more. Her liquid brown eyes slowly closed, and a tear escaped to run slowly down into her ear. _


	3. Chapter 3

Part III

A persistent knocking penetrated Laura's sleep, and at the same time she felt little cat feet kneading her hip. A cat's musical voice queried "Mrrrppp?"

Laura sat up abruptly. "Nero?!" She reached down to stroke his sleek little black form, barely visible in the dark, as she realized the knocking had a voice that went with it. HIS voice.

"Laura? Please open the door."

Laura slowly walked down the stairs of her loft, and slid the great door open. "Mr. Steele." Those two little words seemed to slip through her lips without thought.

Steele stood uncertainly just outside the door, even after Laura opened it, the very image of contrition, holding a single perfect blush colored rose in his hand. The two stood starring at one another for several seconds, before Laura turned, walked to her sofa, and sank into it. Nero quickly hopped up beside her and settled into her lap with a loud purr.

"I think I must have forgotten to feed him when I got home." Laura admitted as she absently fondled his ears. "He's desperate for attention when he's hungry."

"Well, I imagine you were quite chilled by the time you got back." Steele stepped tentatively into the room, holding the rose just in front of him as if to test the safety of the air in the room. "Laura. Will you accept my apology? I'm sorry I wasn't more attentive to our docking process, and then a bit cavalier about your dunking."

Laura was starring around her loft. The plants, the artwork, the furnishings. The piano. A warm sensation flooded her at the memory of its arrival here in the loft before the renovations had even begun.

"Mr. Steele I've just had the oddest dream. Murphy was in it, Fred, and Mildred, and Miguel, the janitor at the Towers, but not you."

"Well, perhaps you would rather dream of anyone but me today." Steele suggested uneasily.

"Perhaps. In my dream my life was certainly different, very different, without you in it."

"Oh? A change for the better?"

"Oh, I don't know about that. I worked too hard, didn't eat regular meals, and didn't do anything that was just plain fun."

"And how is that different from your life with me in it?"

Laura grabbed a pillow and threw it at Steele, who dodged it, breaking into that wonderful, amazing, lopsided, loving grin of his as he sat down on the sofa next to Laura, still holding the perfect rose.

"Is that for me, or are you planning to perform a tango?"

Steele held the rose out to Laura. "It reminded me of the beautiful colors the sun cast on your face this evening."

"The sunset was lovely. The whole afternoon was, actually, right up until the…" Laura took a deep breath, inhaling the lovely fragrance of the flower. Her face was sober, eyelashes lowered, still somewhat distracted by the images she had dreamed so vividly. Her life, she realized, WAS better with Mr. Steele – complete with all his irritating, expensive, and egotistical ways. Mr. Steele had upended her perfectly orchestrated life and made it ridiculous, unpredictable, messy, and pretty close to – well, perfect.

"Laura. Can we start the ending over again? Go somewhere for dinner – just you and I? No Mildred, no Fred?"

"The pier?" Laura suggested playfully. "Unless you think you're likely to push me in the water again. I have to admit I'm starving, and for some reason I have a sudden overwhelming lust for cotton candy."

Steele leaned in to repeat his experimental taste of the blush on Laura's cheek – not the result of the sunset this time, but risen rather as a result of her own thoughts. He turned her face toward his, and gently claimed her lips with his own. When the kiss ended, Steele continued to contemplate the soft brown eyes that so completely captivated him, and ran his thumb over the deep dimple in Laura's cheek. "That sounds perfect Miss Holt. Cotton candy it is."


End file.
